Seven days of Snow
by Monsoon Raindrops
Summary: Snow, after living a few months with seven honourable dwarfs, wants nothing more than to make them see her in a less honourable light. One which could potentially make them all happy.


**Fandom: Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs**

 **Title: Seven days of Snow**

 **Summary:** Snow, after living a few months with seven honourable dwarfs, wants nothing more than to make them see her in a less honourable light. One which could potentially make them all happy.

 **Rating: M**

 **=Part One - Bashful**

Winter had given way to scorching summer. Every window sparkled. Snow cooked without fault. Laundry - white sheets - billowed beside the cottage, airing them for dry folding later. Dreams had taken a more confusing turn. Occasionally, while the dwarfs were out in the mines, she lay in their beds and hoped they would come and find her. Time and time again they did. Sprawled out, shifting with agitation and all they did was order her out, with good humour and even better grace.

Snow paused, watching Happy, the tallest and fittest of the dwarfs, raise his pick-axe and strike the insurmountable rock. It was a hot day, they had all stripped to the waist as Snow wandered around, offering cool glasses of lemonade. Hand-made. Fresh.

Anything to please them.

"Thanks Snow," Happy said, grounding his axe and reaching for his glass.

Snow watched his throat work as the drink was finished in one go, and she accepted the glass back with mild frustration.

He wasn't even looking at her!

"How about it, Doc," Happy said, "we have done all we could. Time to head to the stream? Snow can join us later."

She never annoyingly did.

With remarks of pleasure, Doc, Sneezy, Dopey and Grumpy threw their axes aside, and rolled their shoulders. Well Grumpy couldn't look less pleased. Sleepy was still in the house, true to his nature and slumbering in bed. Snow collected the remaining glasses as the little gang disappeared, and started to head towards the kitchen. The little brook that ran by the cottage wasn't very far, so she could hear the splashing and loud laughs. They were having a cool down after a hard day's work.

Snow fanned herself with one hand, digging the tray into her waist.

She wished she could cool down.

But the more months she spent with these seven, obtuse dwarfs, who despite their height, packed youthful bodies, firm torsos and muscles, the more she became convinced they were singing from different hymn sheets. Had none of them noticed she was a woman? Did none of them care?

Never had a more ready woman was willing to spread her legs to all seven of them, but yet they acted none the wiser to her baser thoughts. Frustration didn't cover it. If she had to spend one more evening, bathing herself and hoping one of them would come looking for her, as she soaped her tits then life wasn't worth living.

It was time to take matter into her own hands.

One by one, she'd covert them. And then they would think nothing of being with her intimately all the time, whichever time they pleased, whichever time she needed them. Like now for instance. She rubbed her thighs together, wearing no underwear as she placed the glasses by the sink and proceeded to wash them. Out of all of them, who was the easiest to fluster?

The answer came.

Bashful.

Not thinking twice, she stole towards the stream and although did not risk spying on them, did enough to dart out and sweep up Bashful's clothes neatly folded in a pile. They were all extremely neat dwarfs. Did they ever not lose control or order? Whistling merrily to herself, she returned to the cottage and hid the clothes near her bed. Then resumed her chores, such as taking the white sheets in. Whisking them out and folding them into squares, using her chin to hold the folds.

There was chatter up the trail and Snow straightened.

Sneezy, Happy, Doc, Dopey and Grumpy appeared, all clean and fresh, but no Bashful.

"Where's Bashful?" she asked lightly, as Grumpy laid eyes on her.

He snorted. "His clothes are missing! Snow, you must go over with some."

"The silly bastard was too shy to get out," Happy grinned.

"I don't see why," Doc frowned, looking calculating. "There is nothing to be embarrassed of walking back, buck naked. There's only Snow here, and I'm sure she'd look away. Wouldn't you Snow?"

"I will show him my breasts in return," she said cheerily, and the grin on Happy's face faded. He looked at Snow, and a soft haze came over his eyes, almost like he was picturing her above him, breasts thrust in his face. Snow's breath caught, as she imagined him driving up deep and square, repeatedly so she bounced on his lap. With the others watching, waiting to replace -

Snow shook her head. Too soon. They need to be broken in lightly to the idea of having a sexual slave ready for them, anytime they wanted.

"I'll go to him," she said, picking up her skirts and turning to face the trail. "I will tend to him."

And then smiling immodestly, she ran as fast as her feet would take her to the water's edge. "Bashful! Bashful? Can you hear me?" Her eyes scanned the surface. Ripples at the furthest bank distracted her, before the tall reeds at this side, near some jutting rocks shifted, and a familiar face with a red beard peered from around them. He was sunk low, so the water lapped his shoulders, unable to climb out. Perhaps he had climbed out, discovered his missing clothes and dived back in with a curse.

"Snow!" His eyes looked wild.

"There you are," she said with some relief.

"Where are my clothes?" He looked at her empty hands.

Snow straightened. Her palms came serenely to hold onto each other, as she clasped them in front. A devious smile played on her lips as she checked behind her shoulder to see they were well and truly alone. "I didn't bring them."

"What? Why?" Bashful queried.

"You need to come out of that water and walk to the cottage with nothing to hide."

"Aye," he said sarcastically, almost forgetting himself. "Whilst my dick swings side to side, up and down, feeling this merry breeze."

"Come hide under my skirts then," she taunted, closing her eyes. "I'll close my eyes!"

Holding her breath, she didn't expect to hear the splash as he exited, then the breakneck speed as Bashful flipped up the hem of her skirts and disappeared underneath. The second she felt his wet, sopping biceps and chest pressed against her legs, she shivered, quite forgetting his nose would be level with her secret thatch of hair. It would be secret no longer. Silence. Then Bashful's strangled voice brushed against her molten core. The light strokes of air, causing her to moan.

"Snow. You are wearing naught underneath."

"I know."

"This is unacceptable."

The lightest brush of the tip of his tongue against the wet hood of her soaking sex.

Seeking. Glorious.

"I'm about to sink to the ground," she moaned, and did just that, Bashful crumpling to his knees his lips now sealed over her slippery entrance. Lapping, and sucking with loud, smacking noises in earnest, which wrenched a growl deep from within his chest and vibrated against her swollen clit. Oh, the sensation! He was starting to feast like a madman. Someone who had never known how sweet sucking Snow can be, and now a little taste, caused deep thirst that only she could provide the relief for.

In his tongue thrust, his nose pressed deeply into her thatch, and again without relent or mercy.

"Let me see you," she whispered, reaching down to pull up her skirt.

Bashful would only remain shameless as long as he was cocooned from the outside. "No," he said petutantly, large hands spreading her askew knees wide and settling in, as one of the hands came up, and started strumming the outside of her clit, teasing it with a tug, rolling it in his fingertips as his hot mouth suctioned against her wetness, chin moist from her juices, as Snow's eyes rolled, close to an impending orgasm.

Just as she was soaring, Bashful chose that moment to slow his eager thrusting, and instead replaced with light kisses all around her sex.

"Bashful..." she moaned. Relief...so close...

"Have you seen him?"

Snow jerked, twisting on her braced elbows to see behind her. Doc had returned, still shirtless. He saw Snow sprawled on the ground, leaning up on her elbows, facing the stream and passed no comment. "I realised you didn't bring any of his clothes. Where is he?"

He turned to face the water.

Bashful, who had frozen temporarily at Doc's voice, wickedly brushed his beard all over her inner thighs and resumed toying with her slick folds like they entranced him. A finger circled her nub lightly, with the barest of brush, before inserting forcefully within her and pumping. She yelped loudly, to disguise her scream of delight. Two fingers now. Her eyes rolled into her head. He was marking her possessively.

"He's..He's..on the other side of the bank," her teeth chattered. "I'm waiting for him to come b-back. Said he'd be an - _oh."_

Doc turned to her, eyebrows pulled low. "Oh?"

"Hour?" she hastily corrected, unable to stop her hips rolling. "He'll be an hour! Can you please leave? His clothes I mean. Over there. He'll get them when he comes back."

"Remember Snow," Doc said, after following her instruction and turning to head back. "Close your eyes when he gets out the water."

"Yes! _Yes."_

Her feet banged against the ground.

As soon as Doc disappeared, Snow gave up all pretenses pretending. Her elbows gave out. Her head thrashed, hair tangling across her face, as she drew her knees up closer to her chest and pushed her hips up, as she howled into the wind as Bashful fingered her to completion, whilst nuzzling into the apex of her thighs, like he wanted to crawl within her. Past caring, shaking in need and coating his tongue and fingers with a gush of essential mess, she dragged her skirt up, yanked it to her waist and looked down, at the head buried there as he looked up and met his eyes.

Sweet, shy Bashful had the look of a mad conqueror.

So brutal was the display of pure ownership, she continued cresting, calling out his name.

This was the perfect time for him to take her.

He was kneeling over her. Large dick cleaving the air, with a plum crown and creamed slit. Heavy balls that would smack her ass as he pounded. There was a war of conflict over his eyes, then he lunged to the side, rolling up with the clothes Doc laid out for him in triumph. Without further ado, he shoved his legs into the trousers, pulling it up to cover himself as soon as possible.

The shirt came on next, but it was back to front.

Aggrieved, Snow pulled down her skirts and shakily stood. She made it to her knees, before she rolled over in a slump, too weak to walk just yet.

There was no words behind her.

Bashful was running as fast as his short legs would carry him back to the cottage, having carnal knowledge of Snow he never thought he would have outside today except for his fantasises. This material would carry him for weeks, before he would have to taste her again, when no-one was looking at all the wicked things his imagination dreamt up.

Next: Sleepy


End file.
